What We Know (And Didn't)
by readerofasaph
Summary: Akashi and Kise start dating. The Generation of Miracles would have preferred not to know.


**I**

When Midorima first discovered the truth, of course, he had no idea what it was that he'd stumbled upon. Nevertheless, by way of strict technicality, he was the first of us to find out.

(But the last to know.)

He was alerted to the situation by his mobile ringing at an early hour on a Saturday, ruining Midorima's painstakingly perfected morning ritual. Eyes still bleary with sleep, Midorima reached out and with a practised slide of his fingers across the touchscreen, took the call on speakerphone.

"Do you know," inquired Akashi in a politely demanding tone, "whether excessive stupidity is contagious given sufficient and prolonged exposure to it?"

The question seemed atypical enough of Akashi that Midorima tried to give it some lucid thought – a serious challenge when he was barely awake. He reached up and tried to rub the sleep out of his face.

"I mean in the context of long-term intensive exposure," Akashi elaborated. "Clearly spending lunchtimes and basketball practices with Nebuya and Hayama for years hasn't affected the acuity of my thinking processes, but of course that was in a strictly time-limited context."

On the other end of the line, Midorima heard a languid voice say, "_Akashicchi-_", before disappearing into a muffled laugh.

"On second thoughts," Akashi said, ever so slightly breathless, "Perhaps I should delay this discussion for a more opportune time."

Midorima checked his wall clock. He needed to get up soon if he were to catch the morning Oha Asa show. "Maybe that would be a good idea."

Akashi hung up with what appeared to be his usual efficient abruptness. Or so Midorima thought at the time.

(Only later did he recognise unseemly haste for what it was.)

**II**

Momoi was the first among us to deduce – by fact, observation, logic, and what she sometimes called female intuition but others called intelligence – the true state of the situation.

What she knew, Aomine also found out very quickly; and once Aomine Daiki knew, he called Kise to berate his basketball talent, life choices, and taste in romantic interests. Aomine hardly knew which problem to focus on, Kise seemed so unfortunate in all three areas.

"You know how I feel about the violent types who order me around," pointed out Kise.

"Actually we _don't_," snapped Aomine, while Momoi mentally catalogued her available data on Ki-chan's surprisingly short and mostly unrequited love life thus far. Kasamatsu Yukio. Kuroko-kun. Dai-chan.

"The pattern does fit," she said.

Aomine let out a snort of disbelief. "What does Kise even _see_ in that guy?" he demanded to know, content to speak of Kise in third person.

There was a long pause before Kise said, in a pensive tone: "His face, I suppose?"

Aomine and Momoi stared at each other, a little puzzled, wondering if Kise _was_ that shallow. (Or rather, Momoi wondered why Ki-chan was pretending to be that shallow. Aomine just wondered why Kise's standards in beauty had declined so dramatically.)

"I also quite like outsourcing all the hard work of thinking to someone else," added Kise, and then pointedly continued, "You'd know all about _that_, Aominecchi."

Momoi cupped her mouth with her hand to hide her smile. Aomine sulked.

Kise wasn't done yet. "Also that thing he does with his tongue when he's in a demanding mood and he wants your attention-"

Aomine cut the call.

**III**

By the time Murasakibara found out, it was because all of us knew; the happy couple having contrived to get themselves photographed by paparazzi holding hands while on walking tour in Karuizawa.

After two weeks of having his nose, his height, his expected annual income, his university, blood type and star sign dissected mercilessly by the celebrity blogosphere – sixty percent of whom had pronounced him as _barely_ good enough for 'Ryou-chan' and a distressing two percent of whom had declared a total loss of hope in life now that Kise Ryouta was _possibly_ gay – Murasakibara's indifference to the situation largely came as a relief to Akashi.

"I suppose Kise-chin's cute," Murasakibara said. "Kind of stupid though, right? And he keeps getting followed around by fans? That'd be annoying."

There was something oddly comforting about hearing Kise Ryouta's radiant summery beauty – the kind that literally made heads turn and regularly caused girls on the street to unintentionally walk into lamp posts; the kind that Akashi had thought himself entirely indifferent to until, one day, too late, he discovered that he wasn't – reduced to the mere adjective _cute_.

"It's a surmountable problem," Akashi said, and for reasons he couldn't immediately determine, Murasakibara looked down at him, made a face as if he were sucking a sour plum, and then changed the subject.

Thereafter Kise became one of the extensive array of topics (Murasakibara's carbohydrate intake, Akashi's violent tendencies, their entire second half of middle school together) that Akashi and Murasakibara had decided, by mutual unspoken agreement, never to broach with each other.

Murasakibara had always been a conveniently low-pressure friend that way.

**IV**

Haizaki's reaction when he discovered the celebrity pictures was to snort and say, "I've never seen two people deserve each other so much."

Nijimura, who thought Haizaki was not in a very good position to be talking about things people deserved or didn't deserve, raised his eyebrow – and then, because he was used to Haizaki's inability to detect anything so subtle as a facial expression, added, "And what is _that_ supposed to mean?"

A snarl covered Haizaki's features – hot and aggressive, but also more defeated than Nijimura really liked to see. "They're arrogant, entitled, rude little shits who don't give two fucks for anyone around them."

Last summer Himuro had threatened to send Nijimura and Haizaki to couples' counseling if either of them ended up needing medical attention once _more_ due to yet another failed attempt to settle arguments through non-verbal violence. Nijimura wasn't sure exactly what Himuro meant by couples' counselling and he didn't want to find out.

"I'm going to go count the pots and kettles in the kitchen," said Nijimura. "Call me if you need me."

Nijimura exited the living room, taking the glossy magazine with him, with its spread of bright, bombastically captioned photographs, obviously surreptitiously taken, of his former middle school kouhai. Akashi, who'd succeeded Nijimura at Teikou. Kise, who'd replaced Haizaki.

In one picture Kise was pointing at something outside the photo. Sunlight glimmered across Kise's hair, across the foliage lining the garden path they were standing on. Akashi stood at Kise's side, shoulder to shoulder, gaze following the direction of Kise's outstretched arm, a half-smile gracing his lips.

They looked good together. It was hard for Nijimura to imagine them having actual conversations with each other, but then again Nijimura was still surprised every time he had an actual, functional, productive conversation with Haizaki. Even though those were happening with increasing frequency these days.

He chucked the magazine into the kitchen bin – only to discover, via a small pile of not-very-well hidden extinguished cigarette butts, that Haizaki had once again taken up smoking on the sly.

Nijimura walked back out to the living room whereupon another noisy non-violent shouting match ensued, Kise and Akashi and Teikou entirely forgotten.

**V**

None of us knew exactly when Kagami and Kuroko found out. Kagami never mentioned it, and Kuroko certainly wasn't telling.

Unlike the rest of us, however, the two of them didn't have the option of doggedly ignoring the unexpected development and then returning to their lives. For one, Kise had moved back to Tokyo since finishing high school.

"Akashicchi is such a jerk," he moaned, lying listlessly on the couch in Kagami's living room.

It was at least the dozenth time Kuroko had witnessed this performance or some variation of it in the last six months. For a full five minutes Kuroko did his abject best to think of ways to get Kise off the couch and out of Kagami's apartment. Most of the methods he dreamt up didn't seem viable. Most of the rest had been tried before, unsuccessfully.

"Exactly _how_ is he being a jerk this time?" Kuroko asked. He did not believe there was any hope of Kise-kun's problems – i.e. Akashi-kun's fundamental personality, temperament, and behaviour – being solved in the short- or even medium-term. On the other hand, lending Kise-kun a sympathetic ear was sometimes the most efficient way to get rid of him.

Kuroko could just about manage being Kise's agony aunt as long as it didn't last too long past midnight.

Kagami, who had been half-listening while he prepped kabocha and shishito for tonight's dinner, asked: "Why don't you just punch him?"

Kagami-kun needed to stop suggesting fisticuffs as a solution to other people's Akashi problems. Kuroko noted sourly that Kagami-kun himself, in all these years, had never so much as volunteered to be the one to punch Akashi out.

"I tried," whined Kise. "The first time he dodged. The second time he used Ankle Break on me. Then the third time he punched back. Akashicchi punches _really hard_."

"You tried to punch him three times," stated Kuroko. "And you're still together?"

"It must be true love, mustn't it?" Kise gave a sharp short laugh. "Just kidding."

"Just kidding?" Kuroko asked, giving Kise a long even look, until the taller boy first broke eye contact, then flicked back to stare at Kuroko again, eyes dark and serious.

He made his farewells not long after that, not bothering to stay for dinner.

"Is he going to be okay?" asked Kagami, while ladling out bowls of soup.

Kuroko shrugged. "It's Kise-kun," he said. "If he needs to, he'll be back. Anyway Akashi-kun just emailed me. He wants to talk."

"Ah," said Kagami. "At least _he_ lives in Kyoto."

"I remain grateful for small mercies," said Kuroko.

What none of us knew, because Kise and Akashi weren't telling:

(Because the two of them didn't know either.)

How it happened.

What they really thought was happening.

Whether, when Kise thought that it would be nice to have strings attached, it was because he already felt himself irrevocably tied down, in ways he'd never expected.

Whether Akashi ever acknowledged, even in his dreams, that Kise wasn't something he'd ever thought he wanted. (But whom he needed anyway.)


End file.
